Candlelight flickered in the room and made shadows appear and disappear
against the wall as cries of passion filled the air. A thin line of smoke curled
upward from the burned-out incense stick, and the feet of two women mingled
together in a sea of cotton sheets on the bed. The couple lay on their sides
facing each other, with the sheet covering their nakedness.

Fade Out

Fade To:
Int.
Rowena’s Bed – Evening

Rowena clutched the redhead’s back, her face buried in Willow’s neck.

Willow continued to move sensuously, apparently ignoring any pain she might
feel from Rowena’s nails leaving red marks across her back. Rowena shuddered,
mouth open with no sound as her body convulsed in ecstasy.

Rowena loosened her grip as she tried to catch her breath, but Willow still
held Rowena tightly to her. After a few moments of stillness, the blonde broke
into sobs and Willow’s happy expression melted into concern. But instead of
pulling away, she kept Rowena’s head in place by stroking her hair and not
letting the woman look up.

After a couple of seconds, Rowena pulled away slightly and wiped her wet
face. "I’m sorry," she said obviously embarrassed. "Here I am,
blubbering like an idiot."

"Is it happy or sad blubber?" Willow asked as if she was unsure she
wanted the answer, but needed it just the same.

Rowena smiled and stroked Willow’s cheek. "Quite happy."

Willow smiled gently and her shoulders relaxed against the bed. "Then
there’s nothing wrong with that," she answered. "It’s not only
about physical release…it’s an emotional and spiritual one too, sometimes.
Tears are perfectly acceptable and even laughter now and then."

Willow’s index knuckle grazed Rowena’s face and when the finger came
close enough to her mouth, Rowena’s tongue snaked out giving a small lick
before she kissed it softly. The blonde watcher seemed to silently consider
Willow’s words.

Finally she pushed away a sweaty strand of red hair from Willow’s face and
smiled. "Wow, that’s some spell, eh?" she said.

Willow’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Spell? What
spell?"

"That spell you just cast. I’d say you’re getting your powers back
quite nicely. It’s kind of like that Beltaine thing, except I hope you kept it
just between us."

For a moment Willow remained confused and then her eyes hardened slightly.
"You think I cast a spell on you to make you…feel that?"

"Didn’t you?" Rowena asked.

"No," Willow replied.

"Well, I never felt that before. I mean, even when I had your
body, it was, well, not like that."

Willow pursed her lips as if trying to hold back a smug expression and a
small giggle escaped.

"Okay, I know you just said that laughing was okay, but…?" Rowena
said indignant.

"Oh Sweetie, I’m not laughing at you. I swear. I’m…I’m delighted
really," Willow said getting herself under control. "Come here."
She rolled back towards Rowena and once again took the blonde into her arms.
"Now," she continued, finally calm. "I swore I’d never cast a
spell on someone without their consent again, well, unless they’re evil, but I
think that goes without saying. But what happened at Beltaine, that was an
accident caused by the Presidium messing with my magic."

"So, you did that all on your own? That was all natural?" Rowena
asked.

Rowena’s face blushed brightly even in the dim light from the candles. She
tangled her fingers in Willow’s hair and pulled her face closer until their
lips met in a passionate kiss. Breaking off she asked, "Does this mean I
can make you feel that way, too?"

"Oh yeah," Willow said, her voice heavy with renewed arousal.

"Will it always be that…" Rowena paused as if searching for the
right word. "Good?" she finally settled on, heat still gracing her
cheeks.

"Better?" Rowena answered amazed before a smile slowly took shape
on her face.

"Um Hm," Willow answered as she rolled Rowena on top of her.
"I hope you’re up on your multiplication tables, because you’ve only
just begun your lessons."

Rowena smiled sensuously before she began to kiss her way down Willow’s
neck.

"Good thing I’ve always been a quick study," she said before she
wiggled her eyebrows and darted under the sheet.

Willow opened her mouth as if to say something, but instead let her head fall
back against the pillow. "Good thing," she muttered absently.

Fade Out

Fade In:

Int.

TransWorld Atlantic Shipping –
Nightwatchman’s Office – Same time

The office was old and cluttered, dominated by a wide window looking out over
the expanse of water beyond the piers, the glass panes tinged with grime at
their corners. A lone guard sat reading a magazine with his feet up on the desk,
ignoring the portable television perched atop a filing cabinet. He turned the
magazine sideways to let the centerfold open, gave an appreciative whistle, then
hurriedly stuffed it in a drawer as the door behind him opened with a squeak
from its old hinges.

"Nada," the second guard said, giving a cursory glance through the
window at the dark bay dotted with the navigation lights of various late-working
boats.

"Told you," the first guard shrugged, nudging a wheeled chair
towards his comrade with his foot. "Take a load off Lenny. You’re new,
eager, I get that, but trust me, ninety percent of the alarms here don’t work
too good. And the other ten only pick up rats. I got no problem with rats, they
stay in their holes, we stay in our office, everyone’s happy."

"What’s on?" Lenny asked, settling down and opening a can of beer
from the bar fridge beneath the desk.

"SVU," the man shrugged, opening a can for himself.
"Beats walking the perimeter. Cheers." They sat back and gazed at the
battered old TV for a moment.

"Doesn’t it get to you, how formulaic this is?" Lenny asked after
a moment.

"Hmm?"

"I mean, every episode they start with a couple of random people, they
talk for fifteen seconds about something that’s nothing to do with the plot,
then- bam! The victim shows up, random person A and B never show up again. Why
not just skip to the detectives?"

"You think too much."

"Anyway, it’s a rerun."

"Reruns are better," the guard said with authority, "that new
ADA, she doesn’t do it for me. The one they used to have was hot."

Both men winced as a spotlight crossed the window, shining blindingly bright
for a moment into the dim office before it moved on.

"Uh, the…" he searched the crowded drawer for a shipping
timetable, "the… yeah, the Ceres, due eleven-thirty for pier ten,
down east. She’s early."

"Yeah," Lenny agreed, peering through the grimy glass at the
collection of spotlights on the lake beyond, "she…Carl…"

"What?" The guard stood and looked through the window.

"Oh Jesus! Run!"

Cut to:

Ext.

TransWorld Atlantic Shipping Pier –
Same time

Heedless of anything in its way the Ceres, a gigantic cargo ship
riding high in the
water with empty decks, continued on its course straight
towards the Cleveland shore. As distant sirens sounded from police boats the
ship rammed through the flimsy wooden piers, crushing motorboats and moored tugs
as it went. Two tiny figures burst from a warehouse, running as fast as they
could, when the massive freighter crashed into the dock proper, driving up an
eruption of shattered concrete and twisted metal like a bow wave of debris
before it.

A second later its prow, bent and scarred but still plunging forward, smashed
through the front of the warehouse, tearing through its thin metal walls like
paper. Amid showers of sparks, gushes of flame and the deafening din of the
collapsing building the ship reared up, tilting sideways as its hull scraped
against the shattered ruin of the dock, the sound of screaming, tearing
reinforced steel blanketing the night as the huge vessel entombed itself in the
wrecked dockland.

Fade to:

Int.

Ceres Bridge – Same time

An eerie silence descended over the devastated dockland, as the last screech
of tearing metal died away, and even the distant emergency sirens, and the
bleating alarms from the bridge’s computers, seemed to become hushed as the
great vessel stilled.

Radio microphones hung at an odd angle from their cords, unheeded as faint
voices emerged through their static, the dockland authorities repeating again
and again their call for the ship’s crew to reply. A couple of pens rolled off
the slanting consoles, clattering away on the floor.

At their stations, the bodies of the crew lay motionless, slumped over like
rag dolls.

Cut to:

Ext.

Ceres Main Deck – Same time

The searchlight of the first helicopter on the scene panned over the vacant
container deck. A figure garbed in a tattered black cloak walked the length of
the vessel, heading for the prow. It didn’t hurry or dodge about, but whenever
the searchlight swept across the deck, the figure was always just outside its
path.

As more helicopters approached, and the sirens of fire trucks and police cars
drew near, the figure reached the prow, now tilted up twenty meters above the
wreckage of the obliterated warehouse. It calmly stepped off the edge and
dropped into the shadows without a sound.